Love Was Meant For Beauty Queens
by Coralfly
Summary: Finn and Rachel attempt a friendship. Sequel to At Eighteen  Come Dance With Me . Alternate History.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Love Was Meant For Beauty Queens

**Pairings:** Finn/Rachel, Finn/Quinn

**Rating:** R

**Disclaimer:** Glee is the property of Twentieth Century Fox and affiliates and not mine.

**Spoilers:** All of season 1. Although only in the loosest of sense as the story doesn't really follow canonical history.

**Summary:** Finn and Rachel attempt a friendship. Sequel to _At Eighteen (Come Dance With Me)_. Alternate History.

**Author's Note: **To all the fantastic readers who prompted me to continue writing in this verse. It's going to be multi-chaptered because I couldn't fit everything I wanted in one shot.

* * *

**LOVE WAS MEANT FOR BEAUTY QUEENS**

**Chapter 1**

On Monday morning, Finn walked down the hallways of William McKinley High. The path was always the same: up the stairs, smile at the Cheerios, turn right, pass the puckheads, high-five Jones and Chang, straight ahead and stop at the lockers.

The path was always the same but Finn didn't feel the same today.

Okay, so he was holding a bunch of roses that he had bought at the gas station, which was like not normal; and the thorns were totally digging into his palm and painful. The kind of pain that was like hitting the ground hard when he got plowed by two linebackers; his face eating dirt and he couldn't breathe because of the bodies crushing him. But Finn only clutched the roses tighter because he was used to working through the pain. It was all part of being the quarterback.

So he had the bunch of roses in his hand and he had stopped at a different locker, not his. He took a couple of breaths, smoothed his hair with his free hand, and straightened up.

_You can do this, Hudson_, he told himself. _Just talk to her. But don't say anything dumb._

She had her back to him and her small frame was buried in the locker as she pulled out her books for class. She hadn't noticed him yet and Finn was kind of glad. He knew he had to do this but he wasn't looking forward to her anger. He had messed up, real bad.

So he kind of waved the roses at her, because they were the only thing Finn could think of to make things right. A couple of petals went flying, a scattering of red on the floor.

'I got you flowers,' he said.

She turned to face him and her ponytail whipped round. His shoulders dropped and he shifted his feet when he saw her. Like he knew she would be mad and all but still kind of hoped. She was glaring at him and her mouth was a thin pursed line.

'You ruined Senior Prom for me, Finn,' she told him. 'And a bunch of lame ass red roses isn't going to make it okay.'

'I'm sorry, okay. I was a total ass,' he said, scuffing his shoes. Finn took to focusing on the dirt marks on his sneakers as he spoke to her – _the mud was this splotchy blob against the white and it kind of looked like dog poo, which was kind of gross, so he was trying to rub it out with his heel_ – because he thought if he looked at her, eye to eye, that something would break.

'Yes, you were. Prom was _our_ night, Finn. It was meant to be special.'

'It was special,' Finn told her, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them.

And his eyes bugged out and he knew he was freaking, because he hadn't meant to say that, but now the words were out there and Quinn Fabray was looking at him. Waiting. With her hands on her waist and one foot tapping.

'It was special because, uh, you were there. Because you're my girlfriend, Quinn. And you're special,' he hurried.

Finn was kind of surprised and proud that he could come up with that kind of shit without thinking. So maybe he wasn't completely dumb. Just dumb enough to sleep…but no, Finn wasn't going think about that because if he thought about it his brain hurt, like worse than normal, and his chest hurt and everything just hurt.

The hard line on Quinn's mouth softened and she didn't look like she was going to rip into him any time soon.

'This doesn't make it all better,' she told him. 'But it's a start. We can discuss how exactly you're going to make it up to me during homeroom.'

Finn nodded his head quickly because Quinn wasn't being like a total bitch about the whole thing and Finn would take what he could get. Maybe Puck was right and Quinn had been on the rag during Prom night. Which kind of made Finn feel bad, like even more than he had already been.

The first bell rang and Quinn was pulling him by the sleeve as she started talking about carrying her shopping and buying her dinner at some really fancy restaurant that Finn had only ever driven by. Finn continued to nod and he was listening to Quinn, really, but his mind was kind of on how much this was going to cost him and he might need to pick up some extra shifts because his wallet was stretched from the motel room.

When his mind hit the motel room, everything kind of went still but rushing too.

_Mouth. Hands. Legs. Breasts. Skin. _

_The feel of silky dark brown hair running through his fingers. _

He turned his head, cricking his neck, and there she was. Rachel Berry.

Rachel in a red pleated skirt that bounced and made her butt look awesome and her legs like extra long, like they could go on for miles and miles. She was wearing a black top with some animal – _was that a bird?_ – stitched on front and Finn thought she looked cute, like really really cute. She was walking fast, like marching or something, and it was like she was in total control, which was completely hot. Finn could remember what it was like for Rachel to be in control, on top of him in bed, and she knew exactly what she wanted.

She stopped walking all of a sudden, earning a couple of glares from a couple of students, and Finn knew she had seen him.

They stood in the hallway staring at each other and all he could think was that Rachel looked good with her clothes on and that Rachel looked good with her clothes off. And it was pretty much screwed up and screwed, screwing and now Finn was thinking of screwing Rachel and he was so screwed.

They stood in the hallway staring at each other; a good four or five feet away from one another. Students pushed passed him and Finn was too big and too solid so he didn't budge but it was not like he could move anyway. The rubber soles of his shoes had like melted and he was super glued to the floor.

She was biting her lower lip and wringing her hands. Her eyes were dark, dark brown and she was staring at him with this look and his chest and brain were hurting again. Rachel's eyes shifted to the right and her face kind of fell as she gazed at the suddenly too red, too bright roses in Quinn's hands.

His hand kind of half lifted itself and he was thinking of maybe waving to her or something because that seemed like the thing to do. Only Quinn grabbed his hand and she was telling him how they would be late for class and he let Quinn drag him away as the second bell rang.

-o-

Finn had one class together with Rachel, History, which he knew she was only taking for extra credit. So Finn thought he was prepared for seeing Rachel after the almost disaster in the morning. Finn had thought real hard during homeroom when Quinn was going on and on about how lucky he was to have her as a girlfriend. And Finn got it, okay. He knew he should be grateful because he was dating _Quinn Fabray_ and all the dudes at school would kill to be in his position or whatever. So he was just going to pretend like the whole thing with Rachel never happened, like Rachel never existed in the first place.

Only he kind of had this habit from Sophomore year, where he kept his eye out for short brunettes with amazing singing voices. And he had only kept an eye out in the first place because he had been worried that she would go all swimfan on him. But then he just kind of continued even after he left glee club, even after there was no glee club. So his eyes kind of zoomed in on Rachel during class, but it was not like it was planned or anything.

Rachel always sat at the very front with her colored pens stacked on the corner of her desk in order of black, blue, purple, pink and red.

(Finn knew the order because every class Santana would walk by Rachel flicking the pens off the desk. He couldn't count the number of times Rachel had crouched down gathering the pens and then lining them up again at the top right hand corner of her desk, using a mirror to double check that the pens were lined exactly straight.)

Finn always sat at the back with Mike Chang, Santana and a couple of other Cheerios. Santana would bitch about everyone and Finn could normally tune her and the other Cheerios out. Mike Chang was pretty cool. Chang was a quiet dude but he had some killer moves on the field, like the way he dodged that linebacker and twisted his body was all kinds of awesome. Anyway, it meant that History was one of the few classes that Finn could normally sit at the back and mostly try and pay attention.

Except that Rachel Berry had History with him.

And he was staring at the way her back was hunched over and her shoulders were tensed and how her long brown hair, which was awesome and soft when he ran his fingers through it, was also kind of covering her face right now. His hand gripped his pen and his breath hitched every time she made the slightest of moves.

_Turn, turn, turn._

She didn't turn.

And shit, there was half a blackboard full of crap that Mr R had written down for a paper due next week and Finn knew he needed to write this stuff down. But the white chalk scratchings were just lines and curls and none of it was making any sense to Finn. He snuck another look at Rachel and she was like super focused, scribbling in her notebook. She was using her black pen, which Finn thought was strange because she always, always used her pink pen.

He looked down at his own notebook and all he had written down in his familiar clumsy large print was _TURN, TURN, TURN_.

He ripped the paper out of his notebook and scrunched it into a ball. The paper was hard edges digging into his skin and Finn palmed the ball before stuffing it in his bag.

When Dave Karofsky, sitting in the middle row, made some lame ass comment that had the whole class turning and groaning and Rachel was still bent over her notebook scribbling, Finn knew she was ignoring him.

The thought made his stomach turn, like the time he and Puck gorged on thirty cheeseburgers on a dare and threw up right after.

He was all prepared to ignore Rachel, to pretend that she didn't exist, but it didn't occur to him until now that she would do the same.

When she dashed out the class without ever turning her head, Finn's mouth felt dry, like with the after taste of puke at the back of his throat. He gathered his stuff slowly, waving Chang off and waiting until Santana and the other Cheerios had left. He walked to the front of the room, his fingers trailing the metal on the side of Rachel's desk. A flash of color caught Finn's eye and then he was bending down and clutching the pink pen that must have fallen out of Rachel's bag when she ran out of the room.

Finn spent the rest of the week with the pink pen tucked in the pocket of his jeans.

-o-

It was Sunday morning. 7am in fact, which was way too early to be up. Like Finn had been to enough Christ Crusaders meetings and listened to Quinn talk enough that he knew Sunday was like a day of rest. Which Finn was totally down with. Although he still wasn't sure about the whole God thing and definitely not the whole celibacy thing. Because, like, c'mon, he was a dude and all and like Puck always said, 'The Good Lord wouldn't have given us balls unless we weren't meant to use them to score.'

Although Finn guessed he wasn't a celiabacist anymore, not since Prom.

In the end, it all came down to Prom. Prom was why Finn was up at 7am on a Sunday morning instead of resting like God intended because he had just blown a good chunk of his savings on one dinner at Chez Bon with Quinn a fortnight ago.

Luckily, he had managed to swing a job as a stock boy at the local supermarket. The pay was lousy (but at least he got paid) and he had to wake up at like 6am so that the shelves were stocked before the doors opened at 8.30am. Although Finn really didn't know what freaky kind of person would voluntarily wake up this early on a Sunday morning.

He settled into a rhythm as he stacked the shelves. The boxes and bottles all started to look the same, to feel the same and he couldn't tell if he was holding a bottle of pasta sauce or a box of tissues. His mind drifted but his body was still moving, grabbing the next item and placing it on the shelf, and after a while it felt kind of awesome like he was sleepwalking or something. Like maybe this was what it felt like to be a zombie only without all the blood and the killing and the guns and not being evil and all.

Finn was really starting to get into being a zombie, a good zombie with superpowers, when he grabbed the next box, turned around and rammed into the back of some person. The boxes went flying and Finn and the other person crashed onto the floor. Probably some ten year old kid, Finn guessed by the feel of the small frame underneath and the tiny fists hitting his back.

'Gemphjoff,' the kid said.

The voice was muffled and Finn couldn't understand a word. He pulled himself off the floor and asked, 'What did you say?'

'I was trying to say get off,' the voice wryly replied.

Finn did a slow half turn around because he knew that voice; a distinctly female voice that didn't belong to some ten year old kid but to Rachel Berry. He saw her carefully pushing herself up using her knees and her right hand while her left hand was dusting off her skirt.

'Are you all right?' he asked.

Finn did a quick once over Rachel because he was kind of big and she was tiny and he hadn't meant to squash her and turn her into some Berry pancake. And so okay, he may have snuck in a double check but her skirt had been riding up and her top had slipped off one shoulder revealing skin and the hint of cleavage. He snapped out of it pretty quick though when he noticed a bruise forming on her elbow.

He rushed to her side, wrapping an arm around Rachel's waist to steady her and offering his right hand for extra support. She went to take his hand, shooting him a grateful look, before faltering.

'Uh, Finn, you kind of have something in your hand already,' she told him.

Rachel wasn't looking at him when she spoke. Instead her eyes darted from him, to his hand, to the floor, to the shelves before finally settling back on his hand.

Finn looked down and a flush crept up his cheeks. His right hand was squeezing a dented box of extra durable Trojans. And scattered across the floor were boxes and boxes of condoms and somehow Finn had managed to completely tune out exactly what he had been stacking a few minutes ago.

'This is kinda awkward,' Finn said.

'There is a certain element of irony to this whole situation, I suppose,' Rachel agreed. 'A little bit of Life's humor smiting me.'

'Uh, yeah,' he said, shuffling his feet.

They stood in the middle of the aisle, Finn feeling more and more like an idiot as the seconds ticked by although for some reason he couldn't bring himself to move away from Rachel. After a minute, he felt her spine straighten up and he could feel the way her body contracted and expanded beneath his fingertips as she took a deep breath and then wrenched herself two steps away from him.

'Look, this doesn't have to be awkward,' she said. 'In fact, it shouldn't be awkward. We are both adults. We were two consenting adults who were responsible. And it was just a lot of harmless, safe fun. It didn't mean anything and we can now go our separate ways.'

'It meant something,' Finn blurted.

He took a step forward.

'It meant something, Rachel,' he repeated. 'And not just because it was my first time but because it was with you. And I don't know what that means. Only that it means something.'

'It was your first time too?' Rachel whispered, wrapping her arms around her body as she spoke.

Finn nodded, taking another step forward to close the distance between them.

'Yeah,' he said. 'What with Quinn being my girlfriend and the Celibacy Club and all. I've just never done it with anyone before. And it was special for me, Rach.'

'Oh!' she gasped then frowned, lines marring her face. 'But you're still with Quinn Fabray.'

His brow furrowed and his head hurt because Finn didn't know how to explain everything to her.

'That's different,' he insisted. 'I mean, me and Quinn are me and Quinn. It's confusing and all but it's different from you and me. I like being with you, Rachel. And not just the sex, which was totally great. It's like easy talking to you. Like you get stuff. And I hated that you wouldn't even look at me in school.'

'It can't be that simple, Finn.'

'Why can't it be?' he asked. 'Look, I'm not saying that we should have sex again or whatever. Just that I like spending time with you. Like being with you makes me feel alive.'

'Kind of like singing,' she said.

'Huh?'

'When I first heard you sing, when we sang together during that first rehearsal in glee club, it made me feel alive.'

'Yeah, me too,' he confessed.

'So why did you quit?'

'Because I wasn't ready to feel like that,' he told her, focusing on the box of Trojans in his hand. 'Because I was too chicken shit. Because I didn't know that it would be the last time I felt like that until Prom night with you.'

Rachel stared at him, her eyes wide, dark and worried. It took awhile – almost felt like forever to Finn – before her mouth twitched to the smallest of smiles.

'Okay then,' she said, 'I think, I guess we could try being friends?'

Finn felt his mouth slipping up into a wide grin. He liked the idea of being friends with Rachel Berry. He really liked the idea.

'Friends is good,' he told her. 'Friends is really good.'

Finn's arm twitched and he really wanted to give Rachel a hug, because friends hugged and all. Not that he ever hugged Puck or Chang or anything but they were dudes and dudes didn't hug. But Finn was pretty sure that being friends with girls meant that you hugged like all the time. Because Brittany and Santana were like always hugging and they were girls and friends.

However when Finn's arm started to move Rachel gave out a yelp.

'I cannot believe it is 8.43am already!' she exclaimed. 'I'm already behind schedule and I still have numerous items to pick up which are on the list. I have to go. I'll see you at school.'

She backed away, her head down and all her focus on some list that she had pulled out of her bag as she power-walked down the aisle.

Finn sighed and slowly started to pick up the boxes of condoms. As he crouched down to pick up the box to his left, Finn felt something poking at him through the side of his jeans. He straightened up and dug into his pockets, pulling out a pink pen.

He sprinted to the end of the aisle.

'Rach, wait up!' he called.

Rachel turned, her brown hair swishing at the movement and her nose was adorably scrunched up as she shot him a quizzical look. Finn took a moment to look at her again – he had missed seeing her face for too many weeks now.

'Here, this is yours,' he told her, handing the pink pen over to her.

'I've been looking for this for weeks,' she breathed. 'It's my favorite pen. Where did you find it?'

'You dropped it in History,' he answered.

'And you just happened to have it with you today, because…?'

'Well, I snuck it into my jeans because I meant to return it to you but I just never got round to it,' he shrugged, trying to sound casual.

Rachel saw through him anyway because the next thing Finn knew, she hurtled forward throwing her arms around him and pressing her soft, soft lips against his cheek.

'Thank you,' she told him before pulling away and leaving the aisle.

Finn stood at the end of the aisle, boxes of condoms scattered behind him, and a goofy smile spreading on his face. His cheek was tingling and his whole body felt energized.

This friend thing with Rachel totally rocked. _Totally._


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Love Was Meant For Beauty Queens

**Pairings:** Finn/Rachel, Finn/Quinn

**Disclaimer:** Glee is the property of Twentieth Century Fox and affiliates and not mine.

**Spoilers:** All of season 1 and spoilers for season 2. Although only in the loosest of sense as the story doesn't really follow canonical history.

**Summary:** Finn and Rachel attempt a friendship. Sequel to _At Eighteen (Come Dance With Me)_. Alternate History.

* * *

**LOVE WAS MEANT FOR BEAUTY QUEENS**

**Chapter 2**

The weird thing about being friends with Rachel was that Finn actually had to think.

Rachel spoke a whole other language:

'_I can't help it if I'm a little pendantic, Finn.' _

'_There's something so visceral and emotive that touches my very soul when Barbara sings.' _

'_My desire to succeed is both innate and perennial and if that makes me a freak to my fellow McKinley peers, well, I'm leaving this town in a few months and one day it will be my name in lights.' _

But it wasn't just that. She spoke 90% of the time and Finn would mostly listen. It was never just a short talk, she always gave speeches, and Finn once counted that Rachel could go for a whole three minutes just saying stuff without ever taking a breath. But they had like actual conversations because every time Rachel finished one of her many speeches she would always turn to him and ask, 'So what do you think?'

The truth was there was a lot of stuff that Finn had never really thought about. He knew his football scholarship and four years of college were waiting for him in slightly more than a summer away but beyond that Finn had never seriously thought about his future. Sure Quinn had talked about marriage and buying the perfect house like one day far, far, far in the future and Finn would nod because it was kind of expected but they were Quinn's plans. Plus his day to day life in high school had never required much thought. Quinn had pretty much planned out their entire dating history and outside of that Finn only ever did whatever Puck and the rest of the football team were doing.

Each week Rachel had taken to asking him some question which had Finn's brain spinning in triangles and circles. He'd go home and stare at the cowboys on his wall, his body stretched full across the mattress so that his feet hung over the end of his bed, with his mind racing. He had taken a break from his Call of Duty marathon because he wasn't even in the mood to like shoot stuff. His mind was full of the sound of Rachel's voice, the way she pitched questions and words at him like a song he couldn't get out of his head.

Sitting in the auditorium with his legs dangling over the edge of the stage, Finn pondered Rachel's current question.

'What do you want to do with the rest of your life?' she had asked him.

They spent Tuesday afternoons and Wednesday mornings in the auditorium when Rachel had a couple of frees and Finn skipped class (they weren't important classes and besides Finn barely made it to Wednesday morning Bio in the first place). No one ever went to the auditorium. It was just this big empty space filled with seats and seats.

Rachel was sitting cross-legged at the center of the stage. There were dusty cardboard trees from when the drama club had tried to stage a production of _Our Town_ during junior year. The club had sold like twelve tickets, all to the six pairs of parents whose children were involved in the club. By the end of junior year, Principal Figgins had cut the drama club due to 'budget constraints' like whatever that meant.

The stage lights were on and Finn thought the way the lights made Rachel shine and everything around her was darker, shaded, less bright just seemed to fit. Rachel Berry was born a star; she was just waiting for her moment.

'I dunno,' he answered slowly, his legs kicking the air, 'I'm just the quarterback. I'm not like you, Rach. And I don't have a – _what did you call it?_ – um, er, a vocation, yeah. So I pretty much have like no clue.'

'You're so much more than just the quarterback, Finn,' she scolded. 'You need to stop underestimating yourself. And not everyone is born with a vocation like me. It just means you have more options to choose from. We just need to figure out who you are and what you're good at.'

He twisted round to glance at Rachel, surprised but also a little stoked at the steel in her voice. Rachel was defending him _like from himself_. Her mouth was gathered into a scowl and she had whipped out her notebook and was scribbling furiously in it with her pink pen. A number of seconds later, she held up her notebook.

'This is a list of things of your attributes, Finn Hudson,' she told him, gesturing to the paper in her hand. 'It isn't a complete list because I've only spent less than a minute compiling it but you can see that quarterback is only one of the many things on the list. I started with the obvious like male, son, quarterback, student, friend, employee at Sheet N Things and the local supermarket, but soon realized that adjectives were much better descriptors of you. So I've added tall, athletic, kind, considerate, chivalrous, funny, resourceful, reliable, empathetic, smart…'

'Wait, you added _smart_?' he gaped at her, because Finn had been called a lot of things but he had never been called smart.

In elementary school the teachers had tried to be positive and encouraging – _'You'll get it soon. Keep up the hard work.'_ – but by middle school and finally high school, Finn was used to that low tone of resignation as the teachers sighed, _'Never mind.'_

'You may not be the most erudite of persons and you may not comfortably conform to society's insistence in measuring our value in terms of academic intelligence – I mean, look at the lack of appreciation for the arts in this school although that is a debate for another time. And okay, maybe you do fit into the mold of All American jock given your athletic prowess but what I'm trying to say is: You Are Not Dumb,' she told him, crossing her arms and glaring at him as if daring him to disagree. 'And you also happen to be extremely people smart, Finn.'

'Okay, so I'm not dumb and I'm people smart,' he said, running a hand through his hair.

Finn hadn't really understood half the words Rachel had just said but he had understood her meaning.

She actually saw beyond the red and white letterman jacket that he wore like football padding, beyond the number of yards he threw the ball, to get to the freakishly tall, awkward (though he would never admit it to anyone but her) boy inside. And she actually liked what she saw.

Rachel Berry was unbelievable and totally, completely amazing. And Finn kind of wondered how he was only getting this now (god, he was so _slow,_ but not dumb according to Rachel).

Sometimes when Finn was with Quinn, he felt like they were still five years and he was in the playground near the cubbyhole by the trees with Puck throwing yellow and brown leaves over their heads screaming and laughing, 'I nounce you man and wife. Man and wife! You have to kiss her now, Finny. Finny and Quinny K-I-S-S-I-N-G!'

He'd jump Puck soon after and they would roll around in the grass throwing punches and that was fun. But then Quinn would start yelling that they'd ruined everything and there was mud on her white ruffled dress and Finn and Puck would have to stand in separate corners for like forever – one whole minute – because Quinn had started crying.

It was Quinn crying that had started everything in the first place. Finn had trod on the arm of one of Quinn's dolls, not on purpose but because his feet had been kind of big (still were) and he had this problem with knocking into things. Quinn's eyes had bugged out and her face got all scrunched up and really really red and then she was crying. He had kind of stood there for a bit and as the teachers started racing towards them, he had started promising her anything just so she would stop crying because even at five years of age, Finn knew that real men never made girls cry and Finn was the only man in the Hudson household.

So she made him do stuff like stand by the cubbyhole and get married or sit next to her in class while her little hands shaped the yellow play-doh into human form.

'This is me and this is you,' Quinn had told him. 'I've made you just how I like.'

Sometimes when he was with Quinn, he felt like he had grown up to be a yellow play-doh Finn.

Being with Rachel was different. Maybe because they had never hung out when they were kids. Maybe because Rachel had never really fitted in Lima, Ohio and now that Finn was eighteen, older, he knew that he didn't really want to fit into this too small town either.

He swiveled his body around so that his legs were now strewn across the polished wood of the stage floor and he had a proper view of Rachel. His eyes were fixed on her, trying to soak in the way the light shone over her. She was chewing on her bottom lip like she was kind of anxious that she had said too much but her eyes were bright, so bright and Finn knew Rachel had meant every single word she had just said to him.

She flashed him a shy mega-watt smile, her teeth white and gleaming as she spoke, 'Anyway, this is just the tip of the iceberg, the beginning of the list. Over time, we are just going to continue to add more. And I know there's going to be tons more to add because as we continue to get better acquainted, I realize that you have hidden depths, Finn.'

She bent her head down again, jotting further words on the list.

'So what else are you adding to the list?' Finn asked, crawling over to the center stage so he could peek over Rachel's shoulder.

The page of the notebook had FINN HUDSON in bubble print with a big pink star at the end of his name. It was kind of girly but very Rachel and Finn thought he might actually like the way Rachel's handwriting made the letters of his name curve. The rest of the list was filled with words written in neat script. She had added 'very talented', 'great singer' and 'natural leader' to her list.

As his eyes scanned down the paper, he noticed a long blot of pink near the top of the list. It was a couple of words – maybe four, no, five words – with three lines crossed over them. He leaned over and his chest pressed into Rachel's back as his hand brushed the side of her thigh. He tried to ignore the way her breath hitched at the sudden closeness and focus instead on making out the letters.

Finn could barely breathe as the letters became words and he turned to face Rachel, forgetting that their bodies were so close now that when his head rotated his lips nearly brushed her right cheek.

'Did you write that I am 'incredibly handsome' and 'fantastic in bed'?' he asked.

'No!' Rachel squeaked, shaking her head.

His lips grazed her skin as she moved her head from left to right and the contact must have startled her because she jumped a little even as Finn fought back a groan.

'No,' Rachel repeated, pressing her palms against Finn's chest as if to push him away. 'No, I didn't write that you are 'incredibly handsome' and 'fantastic in bed' because that would be inappropriate. Not inappropriate in the sense that they aren't apt delineations but inappropriate in the sense that you have a girlf…'

Finn didn't let Rachel finish her sentence. He grabbed her two hands which were resting against his chest, pulling them so they were wrapped around his neck. Rachel was so close to him that she was actually sitting on his lap. He kissed her then, swallowing her words until there was nothing left but the reality of Rachel and the taste of her on his tongue.

Their bodies fell to the floor and he wrapped one arm around Rachel's shoulders as he tried to soften the impact of her back hitting the wooden stage. Her legs were tangled with his and he wasn't even sure anymore where Finn Hudson began and Rachel Berry ended and yet she still wasn't close enough.

The overhead stage lights were hot and intense but they couldn't compete with the slow burn building in Finn every time Rachel's lips skimmed across his neck.

_Was he sweating?_

He felt hot, like a fever. Or maybe like after winning a game and Coach Beiste snuck the team into the Cheerios sauna – because Coach had like no fear and Sue Sylvester be damned – and there was just all that heat and steam and Finn felt kind of droopy but also really good.

Her hands tugged at the ends of his shirt and Finn helped her along, hauling his shirt over his head. It was almost a relief to feel the air on his skin and he blindly tossed his shirt away as he swooped in for another kiss.

Rachel was melting in his arms or maybe Finn was the one melting when his shirt hit one of the cardboard trees and the prop wobbled and crashed to the floor.

The bang that the tree made when it struck the floor was loud. The noise echoed and it was like the air was shaking all around them from the sound.

Rachel swiftly shoved him away and there was a look on her face and he didn't want to call it horror. She straightened her top, her skirt, her hair and gathered her arms around her body and didn't quite look at him.

'I'm sorry,' she stumbled. 'We shouldn't…we didn't…we can't…'

He was looking at her and Finn knew his face was kind of blank because it was like he couldn't move. Like his muscles weren't working and his brain wasn't working and all he could think was, _Why did we stop?_

'You have Quinn!' she finally exclaimed and it sounded like an accusation.

It probably was an accusation because he did have Quinn. And Quinn was his girlfriend so this, whatever this was with Rachel, was cheating. And cheating was wrong, wasn't it? And you were meant to feel bad whenever you did something wrong. Finn knew that. Only nothing about kissing Rachel, touching Rachel, being with Rachel felt bad or wrong.

Rachel was standing up and she was walking out of the auditorium with her back so straight there was like a rod through it.

She added a firm passing shot, 'I need to leave. I have to get to my second period class. We should stop meeting.'

Finn was sitting bare-chested and center stage, with a cardboard tree and his shirt to his right. Rachel's notebook was digging into his calf and he could see the sparkly pink ink and all those words that she said were Finn.

The stage lights were scalding above him. He didn't feel hot anymore. He shivered instead, goose pimples forming up his arms.

It was cold.

And Finn felt like he might have just lost something important and he just needed to think.

-o-

He skipped Christ Crusaders in the afternoon and Quinn didn't get mad. She had been extra happy lately, which was good and all. It probably helped that he had promised to take her to Chez Bon again as a post-graduation celebration for the two of them. You actually had to book to eat at that place so Finn had called and made reservations for Saturday night, two weeks from now.

It was hard to believe that high school would be over in two weeks.

Finn headed to the 7-Eleven and paid Tommy Hamilton to snag him a couple of six-packs. Tommy had been on the football team with Finn and had graduated from McKinley one year ago (he had been left back twice), never quite managing to leave Lima in the end. Tommy was working at Walmart now and had recently been promoted to the check out after working as a stock boy since dropping out after the third month in college.

'Dude, we were epic in high school,' Tommy recollected. 'You, me, Puckerman, good ol' Puck, Adams and Pearson, we used to rule the school. We were fuckin' top shit. Those were the days.'

Finn nodded because it seemed to be the thing to do but Tommy barely even noticed his gesture. Finn noted the glazed faraway look in Tommy's eyes and how his face seemed to brighten when he talked about his time in school. It made Finn wonder if he was going to end up like Tommy Hamilton in a few years time.

Man, he really hoped not. Because high school had kind of sucked and being the quarterback, the Prom King and dating the hottest girl in school didn't really feel much like anything right now. Finn could count on one hand the moments in high school that had made him truly happy: making it through the playoffs and then becoming state champions under Coach Beiste, spending Tuesday afternoons and Wednesday mornings in the auditorium with Rachel, and _glee club_.

Tommy clapped Finn on the back and Finn realized the dude was almost done talking.

'Two weeks left of high school, Hudson,' Tommy said as he waved goodbye. 'Better make the most of it while you can.'

Finn popped the tab on one of the beers and skulled half a can. The malt brown liquid went easy down his throat. It was warm out and Finn thought about how summer was almost here and high school was almost over and the rest of his life was waiting and he didn't have freaking clue what he wanted to do with his life. Okay, scratch that, Finn did know that he didn't want to end up like Tommy Hamilton.

He wiped the sweat which was starting to bead on his forehead with the back of his arm and took another sip of his beer.

Rachel's notebook with the list was in the glove seat compartment in his car. She had told him they should stop meeting and maybe she was right. Only whenever Finn reread the list (and he had read it like sixty times since the morning) his sole thought was that he didn't want to stop meeting Rachel.

His cell rang, interrupting his thoughts, and Finn picked up.

'Hello?'

''Sup, dude?' Puck said over the line. 'I'm missing my boy and you gotta come to school and check out the epic prank we've just pulled. Check you in five.'

Puck hung up before Finn could tell him that he really wasn't in the mood.

He drove to McKinley High anyway because Puck was expecting him and it didn't even really occur to Finn not to go.

When Finn pulled up at the entrance of the school, there were a couple of trucks and one SUV parked to the side and one station wagon burning wheelies across the lot. The air smelt of rubber and smoke. Near the steps someone had emptied out a metal trashcan and had used it to light a small bonfire. There were empty beer cans and bottles littered across the ground and Finn grabbed the six-packs he had scored from Tommy Hamilton, one of them now a five-pack, and jogged over to where Puck was chatting with some of the other guys on the football team.

There was a lot of nodding and high fiving when Finn reached the group. Puck held his right hand out in a tight fist and he and Finn did their usual fist pump. Finn snagged a can for himself before handing the beer over to Fitz to distribute round the group. He tapped the lid of his beer can with his index finger before pulling the tab. The beer frizzed and foamed and Finn had to lick the side of his hand to get at some of the spilt liquid.

The beer was barely cool on Finn's tongue, closer to lukewarm in fact. The night was really warm out and most of guys in the team were down to their wifebeaters. A couple had their shirts off, sweat dripping down, as they whooped and raced in circles across the entrance of McKinley High.

'Bout time you got here, Finnessa,' Puck jeered. 'Thought you were going to go all pansy assed on me and wuss out.'

Finn rolled his eyes, took a couple of gulps of his beer before putting his can down and tackling Puck. They tussled for a bit and Finn managed to get a couple of good punches and jabs in before they broke apart and grinned at one another.

'Whatever, dude,' Finn finally replied, grabbing hold of his beer again.

A light wind had picked up although it was only really shifting the warm air from one spot to another. The wind was also making the smoke from the bonfire drift over to the group and Finn coughed a little as he inhaled the air.

The rest of the team was shooting the breeze, and nothing important was ever said and the conversation washed over Finn. He had only arrived like a minute or so ago and already Finn wanted to leave. The truth was Finn didn't even really know why he was here, except that Puck was his bro and this was where he was supposed to be. Puck was rolling a little on the balls of his feet as the guys talked shit and Finn knew that Puck only ever did that when he was edging for something.

There was a familiar gleam in his eyes that Finn had learnt to recognize back when they were eleven and Puck's mega douche of a dad had walked out and Mrs Puckerman was sitting red eyed on their couch while his mom filled out a bunch of forms. Finn and Puck were supposed to stick to the yard out front and keep an eye out on Sarah, Puck's younger sister.

'This is bullshit,' Puck had said. 'I'm not staying here. I can't.'

Puck had taken off and Finn had just kind of followed him, his hand dragging Sarah along. After a minute or two because Puck had been too fast and Sarah had been too slow, Finn had hoisted the little girl on his back and chased after his bro. Sarah had kept on screaming, _'Giddy Up Horsey!'_ in this really high pitched voice and it had been totally annoying because it was right in Finn's ear. He hadn't told her to shut up though because she had seemed kind of happy and a screaming happy Sarah was way better than a screaming crying Sarah.

The local gas station was four blocks away from Finn's house and he had found Puck outside with the owner, Mr Laxman, grabbing onto to Puck's wrist and pulling candy out of his pockets.

'I've had enough of you hooligans. You all start out young and grow up terrorizing the neighborhood. Well, I won't stand for it. I'm calling the police,' Mr Laxman had yelled.

The next thing Finn had known, he was standing in between Mr Laxman and Puck and Sarah was still on his back throwing her little fists around (which had kind of hurt) and crying, 'Stop picking on Noah, you big fat meanie!'

Finn had tried to explain that Puck wasn't really a thief and that Finn had a piggybank at home with a bunch of quarters in it and Mr Laxman could totally have them all if he wanted but please, please don't call the cops. Puck had just stood there, his feet kicking the concrete and his face all scrunched up like he had known he had messed up but he was the Puckerone so he wasn't going to apologize or nothing.

Later at home, after Mr Laxman had decided to call their moms instead of the cops and there had been a whole lot of yelling and Noah, Sarah and Mrs Puckerman had left, Finn's mom had sat him down on his bed and explained everything to him.

'Noah, Sarah and Mrs Puckerman are going through a really hard time right now, sweetie,' his mom had said. 'And Noah may do some stuff, which is bad and wrong and it is your responsibility to watch out for him. Responsibility means that Noah is your friend and sometimes you may have to remind him about impulse control, that he shouldn't do every single crazy thing that might enter his mind.'

Finn had seen Puck at school the next day and he had been mostly quiet only nodding and saying, 'Dude.'

However during lunch Puck had punched Dave Karofsky when the dude had tried to jump Finn from behind for calling him 'Pubes' in class that morning.

And at eleven years of age, Finn had understood what his mom had been trying to say: Noah Puckerman was his best friend and his bro and no matter what they would always have each other's backs.

So when Finn saw that familiar gleam in Puck's eyes, his stomach kind of dropped. Seven years later and Finn had learnt that while that gleam sometimes meant that Puck had done something totally badass and cool, most of the time it just meant plain old trouble.

'Dude, what did you do?' Finn asked, trying to sound casual.

'Check it out, man,' Puck replied, nudging Finn in the chest as his head gestured to the flagpole where every morning at 8am on the dot, Principal Figgins hoisted the flag of the God Bless the United States of America up the pole.

Finn looked up and saw it. A wheelchair dangled from the flagpole. The ropes on the pole had somehow been threaded through the spokes of one of the wheels and with the light wind blowing the wheelchair clattered and banged against the pole.

'What the fuck did you do?' Finn whispered and there was horror in his voice but Puck mistook it for awe.

'It's epic, yeah,' Puck gloated. 'It's like our fucking senior class statement that William McKinley High School is like disabled. It'll be legacy. We got it roped up so tight that you can't even yank it down, like you'd need a forklift or something to get it off the pole. Figgins is going to freak.'

'What about the kid who like owns the chair?'

'That loser? He's somewhere around, I guess. Azimo and Fitz jumped him. Look, it's not like anyone cares.'

'I care,' Finn said and his voice was kind of quiet but there was a hint of steel in it too that Puck recognized.

Finn's eyes searched the grounds trying to see if he could find the brown-haired kid with glasses.

'Dude, it's no big deal. You're failing to acknowledge the epicness of this, Finnessa,' Puck told him, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

Finn shrugged Puck off and shoved away when he spotted two legs by the bonfire. The fire was still going strong and bits of spark and ember flew out from the trash can hitting the grass and the legs. Finn could see now the rest of Artie, his arms pushing up and then collapsing as he tried to drag the deadweight of his legs away from the fire.

'I don't understand why you're having a cow over some loser you don't even know,' Puck called as Finn headed over to the boy.

'His name is Artie.'

'Whatever, it's not like he's on the football team on anything,' Puck said as he trailed after Finn.

'Well, he could have been once,' Finn said as he spun around and glared at Puck.

'Shit, man,' Puck cursed, 'I forgot about Sean. I forgot that you like hero worshipped Fretthold. But this ain't personal. It's not like you're friends with this Artie kid or anything.'

'No, you don't get it, man. This is all bullshit.' Finn told Puck, gesturing to the team drinking beer and the car doing wheelies. 'And if hanging Artie's wheelchair on the flagpole is going to be our fucking legacy then we're all pretty much set to be dumbass pathetic losers as soon as high school is over.'

Finn stooped over and it kind of pained when Artie flinched like he was expecting Finn to punch him or something. Finn noticed that there was a gash across Artie's forehead and his mouth looked busted up.

'Get on my back,' Finn instructed Artie.

Artie didn't move but just lay there gawking at Finn. His glasses were crooked and a moment later Artie did move but only to straighten his glasses.

'Look, I'm not going to hurt you,' Finn said and threw Artie a smile that he hoped was reassuring. 'But your chair is kinda on the flagpole. And while I'm freakishly tall and all that, I'm still not tall enough to get your chair down. So I figure you'll need a ride if you wanna get out of here. And I think I can handle your weight on my back, if you want?'

Artie didn't say no so Finn kind of took it as a yes and he crouched down close enough so Artie could lift himself onto his back.

Finn knew Puck was watching (all he had been doing for the last minutes or so was watching) and the rest of the team started to shout and cat-call but Finn ignored all of that. He got to his car and it was a little difficult opening the passenger door when you had an 18 year old boy on your back but somehow Finn managed. He carefully placed Artie into the car and Finn was reversing out of the lot and away from the school before he stopped to think and ask, 'Uh, where's your home, dude?'

The ride back to Artie's house was quiet. Finn was glad because he didn't really want to speak.

But when he opened the passenger door and went to help Artie out of the car, Artie asked him, 'Why did you do it?'

'Look, I, uh, wasn't involved in the flagpole thing,' Finn lamely defended. He didn't really want to think about all the other stuff he had been involved in.

'No, not that,' Artie said. 'Why did you help me?'

Finn struggled for an answer. There was no one reason and he wasn't really sure he wanted to list every single messed up thought in his head right now to Artie. Finally, Finn settled on, 'We were in glee club together, once.'

It didn't really answer Artie's question but he let it go and Finn managed to help Artie safely back into his house.

As Finn was walking down Artie's driveway, it came to him that there was really only one place he wanted to be. That there was really only one person he wanted to talk to right now. So Finn jumped in his car and drove.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** Love Was Meant For Beauty Queens

**Pairings:** Finn/Rachel, Finn/Quinn

**Disclaimer:** Glee is the property of Twentieth Century Fox and affiliates and not mine.

**Spoilers:** All of season 1 and spoilers for season 2. Although only in the loosest of sense as the story doesn't really follow canonical history.

**Summary:** Finn and Rachel attempt a friendship. Sequel to _At Eighteen (Come Dance With Me)_. Alternate History.

* * *

**LOVE WAS MEANT FOR BEAUTY QUEENS**

**Chapter 3**

A second after Finn had rung the doorbell – his thumb was still pressed on the white button – he realized it probably wasn't the best idea to come round to some girl's house at 10pm in the evening. Especially when said girl was Rachel Berry and therefore had two dads to slaughter him instead of just the one. But it was too late now because he had already pressed the button and the cheerful tinkling notes of the bell were drifting into the night air.

He tried to think of some good excuse to tell Rachel's fathers when they opened the front door but the only thing Finn could come up with was the truth: _I really need to see your daughter_.

So instead he ran his hand through his hair a couple of times trying to flatten and straighten it. He practiced his introduction, making sure his hand was level and solid each time he pulled it out. (Puck had always said that there was nothing worse than a limp handshake, it said stuff about a dude, and Finn didn't want to give the wrong impression.)

He tested his voice, 'Hi Mr Berry, er, Mr Berries, I'm Finn Hudson.'

No, that didn't work. His voice was too high-pitched that it sounded almost squeaky.

He tried again, deepening the tone so he could sound mature and manly, 'Good evening, sirs, my name is Finn Hudson.'

Only his voice was too low now and it made him sound like the creepy stalker/serial killer dude in horror movies. He wanted Rachel's fathers to like him not call the cops as soon as they heard his voice.

Finn cleared his voice, took one, two, three deep breaths and tried again, 'My name is Finn Hudson and it is nice to meet you.'

'I know who you are, Finn,' Rachel said as she flung her front door open. 'What are you doing here?'

Finn blinked. Rachel was wearing pink cotton shorts patterned with white love hearts and little white ribbon bows tied on the side. She was also wearing a white tank with a big pink heart printed on the front – the same color as her shorts. It was obvious that she had just answered the door in her PJs. And Finn tried to stop his mind from going there, he really did, but it was only natural to think of PJs and then bed and he could just tell that Rachel wasn't wearing a bra. Finn's mind kind of exploded after that and he stood frozen at her front door with his hand extended out.

Rachel huffed at his lack of response and crossed her arms, which only had the effect of pushing her breasts up.

'If you're just going to stand there, I'm going to shut the door on you,' she threatened.

It took the door actually closing to snap Finn out of it and he jammed his body in the remaining space between the door and the frame.

'No, wait, I came to see you,' he told her.

'I don't think it is a very good idea for you to be here, Finn,' Rachel said but she only hesitated for the briefest of moments before fully opening the door again and letting him in.

She led him through the hallway, past the dining room with a large open plan kitchen and into a sizeable living room. The focus of the room was a huge flatscreen tv with a surround sound system. One wall was lined from floor to ceiling with rows and rows of DVDs and CDs organized in category and then alphabetically. Finn spotted a karoke machine with one mike out and he could imagine Rachel belting out a tune to her fathers each night.

'Take a seat,' Rachel said, directing him to the long white couch.

Finn sat down sinking into the plush cushions and gazed around. The living room alone was like half the size of his entire house. Rachel's home was modern and a lot nicer than anything Finn and his mom could ever afford. Although her home wasn't super sparkly like the Fabray household; the Fabrays had all these ornaments – antiques Quinn had called them – like a museum that it made Finn scared to touch like anything. His eyes caught sight of a familiar tiny glass cat curled up next to the silver frame with a photo of Rachel and her fathers.

Finn remembered the first time he went over for dinner at Quinn's house. It had felt weird wearing a sports jacket and a tie and Mr and Mrs Fabray had been arguing about a statute of a cat one of Mr Fabray's employees had brought him.

'Sweetie, it's hideous,' Mrs Fabray had murmured.

'I know it's _common_, lemon drop,' Mr Fabray had said, his voice booming through the empty spaces in the house. 'Just keep it on display for when George and his wife come over for dinner and then we can get rid of it.'

Finn had been smart enough not to mention that they had the same statute at home. Every time his mom had dragged him to help with the groceries, she would always stop at the local jewelers to admire the cat. It had cost 75 bucks and they didn't have that kind of money to spend on some pretty decoration. But Finn had seen how his mom's eyes had lit up and the soft smile that would creep on her face each time they paused by the display window. (His mom had always wanted a cat but she said his dad had been allergic and Finn got itchy and broke out in hives just like him.) In the end, Finn had saved up for months to buy the tiny glass cat with the two eyes made of green onyx; the store owner explaining all this stuff about jewels that Finn hadn't really cared about. The only thing that had mattered was that tight squeeze his mom had given him and the happiness that glowed on her face for weeks.

There was something inviting about Rachel's home. Maybe it was the sight of those two green stone eyes and the familiar way the light reflected off the curl of the cat's tail that comforted Finn. Maybe it was the twelve photographs of a beaming Rachel littered across the room. Maybe it was just because this was Rachel and this was her home and she was standing right in front of him.

'Why are you here, Finn?' Rachel asked, chewing the right side of her bottom lip.

'I just…' Finn didn't have the words so he just kind of looked at Rachel.

His desperation must have been so painfully obvious because she nodded her consent demonstrating that she wasn't going to fight his presence in her home anymore.

'Look, I was in the middle of making some hot chocolate,' Rachel said, 'and while I realize it is kind of hot out and that this isn't the most conducive weather for hot chocolate, I had simply had a craving. And what I'm really trying to ask is whether you would like me to make you a cup of hot chocolate too?'

'Yeah, that would be great,' Finn quietly agreed.

She turned and headed back to the kitchen leaving him alone in her living room. He picked up a photo of Rachel, staring at the way her eyes sparkled and the camera seemed to place all focus on her even when there were other people in the picture. She looked like she was around eight years old in a black leotard and a pale pink tutu and holding a massive gold trophy.

He tried to think back to third grade and he couldn't even come up with a memory of Rachel back then. They had lived in the same town their whole lives, gone to the same schools and yet she had barely registered on his radar (other than the girl that they sometimes egged and Puck slushied) until sophomore year when she had jumped out like a commando in hiding and ambushed him, and he had been on the lookout ever since. It was weird that he had barely noticed her once and now she was all that he could think about.

'Here, you go,' Rachel announced as she returned and handed him a mug.

'Thanks,' he said, taking a sip of the drink.

He closed his eyes enjoying the bitterness of chocolate and the sticky sweetness of marshmallows as the warm liquid rolled down his throat.

'This is awesome,' he told her.

'In certain Jewish circles, I am renowned for my hot chocolate,' Rachel declared, her voice strong and proud. But her voice quickly changed to low and gentle when she asked next, 'Do you want to talk about what's bothering you?'

Finn gulped his hot chocolate instead of answering straight away. He knew Rachel would start bugging him for answers shortly and that he would feel better once he had talked to her but he kind of just wanted to sit in silence for a little bit longer.

Finally, he opened his mouth and said, 'I've had a really crappy evening.'

He looked up at Rachel and he could see that she was really listening to him, her body leant forward and her eyes fixed on him.

'I was hanging out with Puck and the rest of the football team – and don't get me wrong, Puck is my best friend and I love football – but I'm so sick and tired of the same dumbass shit we always pull. Like nothing ever changes,' he continued. 'And it was kind of like what we were talking about this morning. Like what if this is all I am? Like I finish high school and I get to college and I realize that the only thing I know, the only thing I am good at is being some dumb jock that picks on kids who can't defend themselves. And I get stuck with the same type of jock crowd and we do the same thing over and over again and it just never ends.'

'Finn, you know that's not true,' Rachel denied.

'Do I? Do I really? Because some of the shit that I pulled, _hell_, some of the shit that I pulled on you in the past, doesn't make me so sure.'

'The fact that we're even having this conversation means than you're so much better than all that,' Rachel told him. 'Besides, college is the time of metamorphosis, an opportunity for reinvention. We're going to get to college and we will not be the same people we were in high school. We're going to be so much more. And it is going to be fabulous, I just know it.'

Her eyes were serious and intense – _earnest,_ he thought recalling a word from his past SAT prep – as she spoke and Finn could only believe her.

'Thank you,' he said, his voice rough with emotion. 'Look, I should go. Your dads will get real mad if they find out I'm here. I'm sorry for bothering you, Rach.'

'Dad and daddy aren't home,' she informed him. 'They're away until next Sunday on a conference for work.'

Finn went still for like half minute at her words because he hadn't come to Rachel's home for _that_, he really hadn't, even if it was the only thing on his mind now. He was suddenly too aware of her knee against his thigh and the thin white straps of her tank that could be so easily slipped off her shoulder.

Hurriedly, Finn grabbed the mug and drained the rest of the hot chocolate. He needed the distraction, to have the ceramic glass as something to occupy his hands before he lost control and not touching Rachel was no longer an option.

Rachel laughed and he arched an eyebrow in question.

'You have a hot chocolate moustache,' she told him, fighting back her giggles.

He put the mug down and swiped his mouth with the end of his palm.

'Have I got it all?' he asked.

'No, you missed a spot,' she said and laughed again as he rubbed his mouth with the back of his palm. 'You're aiming at the wrong spot. Here, let me help you.'

Her thumb brushed against the left edges of his upper lip and Finn felt that familiar jolt that passed through his body every time Rachel Berry touched him. Her eyes locked with his and Finn bit back a groan as Rachel slowly drew her thumb to her mouth licking off the trail of chocolate and marshmallow on her thumb.

The air seemed static, like full of electric shocks, and the hairs on Finn's arm were standing up.

She crawled over so that she was straddling him, his lower body captured between her thighs. Rachel briefly pressed her mouth against his – too short to count as an actual kiss – before her tongue ran over his lips.

'Mmm, you taste sweet,' she observed.

His arm snaked around her waist and he didn't think it was fair that Rachel was the only who got to taste so he captured her lips and it was sugary sweetness mixed with chocolate and he couldn't seem to get enough of it.

He sucked on her bottom lip, her breath hot against his face. He angled his face so he could have better access to her mouth and slipped his tongue in. She arched back at the sensation and her hips were grinding into him and it felt completely awesome. His hand snuck under her tank and his fingers ran over the bumps of her ribcage until he hit breasts.

Finn had been totally right, Rachel wasn't wearing a bra.

His thumb swirled over her boobs and he got that much harder when he felt her nipples peak and harden. He was still kissing Rachel and Finn thought that he might never stop if he was given a choice.

Mid kiss, their lips still fused together, Rachel inched herself off the couch, parting slightly away from Finn.

'Don't go,' he mumbled his protest.

'Come upstairs,' she said instead, tugging his arm with both her hands.

And okay, her idea was better.

Rachel was always coming up with the best ideas.

So he followed her up the steps, turning left at the small hallway and stepping into her room. He was holding her hand and it was so tiny, delicate like the dandelions Finn used to pluck when he was six. He would give the dandelions to his mom and she would blow the little white blooms letting them dance in the air while he had tried to capture them in the palms of his hands to make a wish. Finn didn't let go of Rachel's hand, not even when she dragged him to the edge of her bed and they tumbled onto the mattress.

With his spare hand, Finn lifted Rachel's tank up until there was an expanse of skin running from the top of her cotton shorts to where the bottom of her tank scrunched up to her chest. He placed kisses along her hips and across the flat of her stomach. The ribbons on her shorts tickled his chin so Finn inched her shorts down.

He thought Rachel tasted like cupcakes. Her lips were chocolate and marshmallow but her skin was vanilla and pink frosting. Finn loved cupcakes.

Her shorts were down to her ankles and Rachel kicked them off. He touched her down there, feeling the warmth and the wetness and his fingers didn't feel too clumsy. Everywhere was warm: the air, the room, the bed, Rachel. He found a rhythm like a beat of the drums: two fingers pushing into her like a clang, a stroke, and her body was a cymbal shaking. One hand between her legs and the other still holding her hand, their fingers entwined, and it felt natural like music.

She panted as he circled and then curled his fingers, her heels digging into the bed. He felt her tightening, her body shifting, angling against his hand. Her nails dug into the back of his left hand and she squeezed his hand so hard even as everything clenched and her head was tossed back, her dark brown hair spilling against her pink bedspread.

He slipped his fingers out and Rachel whimpered at the lost of contact.

They were both greedy for more.

Finn was hard – _was it possible to even be this hard?_ – and it didn't take long for him to be naked and pressing down onto Rachel, her tank thrown to the floor. She had turned to pull open the first drawer of her bedside dresser and grab out a foil package while Finn traced his way up her body with his lips. Finn didn't want to think what it meant that she had a pack of condoms lying round or what it meant that two weeks ago he had filled his wallet with a string of condoms.

When he finally, finally slid into her, he chanted silently to himself _mailman, mailman, mailman_ while their bodies adjusted. Her hips met his when he pulled out and then pushed back in again. Finn found her hand again and their fingers tangled while they continued the motion of in and out. Their breaths hitched as they got closer and he nipped at her skin; teeth, tongue and lips grazing over her shoulder, collarbone and neck.

He was jerking now and then there was nothing left to do but spill into Rachel.

They were drowsy after and Finn brushed her slick, sweaty hair aside placing a kiss on her forehead. Rachel curled up and he pulled her body close so that he was wrapped around her. They fell asleep in that position.

-o-

When the alarm rang in the morning, Finn rolled to the side, his arm reaching out as he hit the snooze button and then promptly fell back to sleep.

When Finn woke up the second time, he figured he was still dreaming. He had had this dream before: almost every fortnight in sophomore year, eleven times in junior year, five times in senior year before Prom and then every single night since then.

Although Finn had never felt this content before and the smell of Rachel's hair was amazing. It was all coconut and vanilla and Rachel seemed to taste and smell like all these different flavored cupcakes, which totally explained why he couldn't get enough of her, so he buried his face in her hair and let the dream continue.

The third time that Finn woke up he knew it was a dream even though Rachel was shaking him and saying, 'Finn, Finn, wake up. It's 8 o'clock already and I cannot believe I overslept and we are going to be late for school. Finn!'

Blearily he squinted one eye open and he could just make out the image of a half naked Rachel so it was cool, he was still dreaming, even though the whole trying to wake him up to go to school was new and different. He reached out and pulled Rachel down so that she toppled on top of him and gave her a bear hug. He liked the way her breasts were squished against his chest and the feel of her snuggled up in his arms. He felt the beginnings of morning wood and the dream was turning real interesting now because he had never had a morning sex dream before.

'Seriously, Finn, you have to get up so we can go to school,' Rachel insisted.

'Don't want to,' he whined into her hair. 'Like this dream.'

'Finn, this isn't a dream,' Rachel whispered in his ear and that was kind of hot.

'Feels like one,' he murmured, his hands running over her thigh and across her butt.

A second later he felt her index finger and thumb gather and twist his flesh.

'Ouch, that hurt!' he yelped, jumping away so that he nearly rolled out of the bed.

Finn rubbed his arm trying to soothe the redness away.

'Sorry,' Rachel said although she didn't sound very sorry. 'It was the only thing I could think of to make you realize that this isn't a dream. Although, I have to admit that I'm rather taken by the idea that you dream about me.'

'Yeah, well next time try and come up with a less painful way,' he grumbled, still rubbing his arm.

Rachel grinned as he spoke, her hair falling across the side of her face and she really had the most awesome bed hair. Although he was kind of concerned about the fact she was grinning like that. Maybe she got off on like pinching him which was kinda worrying but also a total turn on.

'You said next time,' she explained.

Rachel had once told him that she was little bit psychic and Finn guessed it must be true because she was always able to read his thoughts.

'Yeah, well, there will be a next time,' he said, 'unless…unless you don't want…?'

'No, I want,' she answered, kissing him on the lips. 'I definitely want.'

He thought briefly about morning breath but found he couldn't even be bothered to care when Rachel deepened the kiss (hopefully she didn't find his breath too rank). Finn was thinking about how he could maybe make that morning sex thing a reality when he realized that Rachel had maneuvered him some distance away from the bed. He was kinda impressed with her super ninja Jedi mind tricks and maybe he could ask her for some tips or something because he bet they would come in handy in a game.

While he was chewing over that thought, she pushed him back – Rachel was kind of strong for someone so tiny – and slammed a door in his face. Finn looked around and found himself in a bathroom.

'Take a shower, brush your teeth,' she yelled through the door. 'There should be spare towels and toothbrushes in the cabinet. 'I'll get ready in dad and daddy's room. We need to get to school.'

He heard her footsteps getting softer and softer as she padded away and as he stepped into the shower – cold, definitely cold – he thought of ways to work on that morning sex thing because it really was the most awesome idea.

-o-

Finn's car came to a standstill at what was like the last remaining spot in the McKinley High parking lot. They had missed homeroom ages ago and it was around the middle of first period now. Rachel was panicking in the passenger seat, taking these quick little breaths with her brow all furrowed. Finn thought she looked adorable.

'It's not the end of the world, Rach,' he told her. 'You're acting like you've never skipped a class before.'

'That's because I've never missed a class ever. I have perfect attendance record since pre-school or at least I had a perfect attendance record. What if they make me serve detention, Finn?' she gasped in alarm.

Finn laughed because Rachel really was too cute for words. He flicked the windshield wipers off because it was drizzling, which was like Finn's favorite kind of weather ever. Tiny drops of rain splattered onto the front window and Finn let a smile creep onto his face. Today was going to be a perfect day, he just knew it. He pulled the keys out of the ignition before turning back to Rachel and dropping a kiss on the top of her nose.

'No one's gonna give you detention for being late to class,' he said. 'It's like the last couple of weeks of school. No one cares. In fact, I'm pretty sure it is like mandatory to skip a couple of classes. Now, c'mon, we need to get outta here unless you rather skip class for the entire day. And I'm totally up for skipping the entire day, if you want. Just so you know.'

'I'm not going to miss anymore of class than I already have,' she told him in horror. 'Maybe if I plead with Mrs Wilson, I might be able negotiate an extra paper to make up for the missing time and my absence won't have to go on my permanent record.'

Finn laughed again as he hopped out of the car. 'C'mon, let's go. And remember, I'll pick you up at 7 at your dance studio like we discussed. Are sure you don't need me to drive you to rehearsal?'

'Yes,' she said, 'I like to walk to the studio after school. The twenty minute walk acts as a perfect extra warm up after spending too many sedentary hours at school.'

'Okay.'

They walked side by side towards the main entrance doors. The rain sprinkled down on them, not heavy enough to actually get them wet. At the steps, Finn could see a clutter of beer cans and bottles by a tipped over metal trashcan. Dark ashes scattered along the grass and Finn looked away, shutting out the reminder of that particular part of last night. His hand itched out to hold Rachel but she was making a dash through the doors saying something about how she could still make it to the last fifteen minutes of first period if she hurried.

Finn didn't hurry. He took his time sifting through books and crumpled bits of paper in his locker.

The bell rang and students rushed out of class and corridors weren't so empty anymore.

He was a little surprised when the Asian chick who liked to dress in black – _Tina something, he knew her surname was kind of like Chang's only different, oh yeah, Tina Cohen-Chang_ – came striding towards him. Finn's first thought was '_Oh crap_' because the last contact he had with Tina was in sophomore year when she had yelled at him and made all these rude hand gestures and Finn hadn't even known that girls knew how to do that.

'I-I h-h-heard what you d-did for Artie,' she said.

Tina didn't look mad, which Finn figured was a good thing. It was hard to tell because Finn thought all that dark makeup made her look angry most of the time although it also kind of suited her in a good way.

'Yeah?' he asked real slow-like, because Finn didn't want to say too much just in case she was mad.

Tina's face broke out in a smile and Finn was struck by how pretty she actually was.

'I take back everything I said about you in the past,' she said. 'You're really nice, Finn.'

Tina left before Finn could say anything and he was feeling warm inside, like real good about himself. It also occurred to him that Tina hadn't stuttered once during her last couple of sentences and that was kinda weird. Her voice sounded real nice when she didn't stutter and Finn made a note to ask Rachel about it later.

With that settled, Finn tried to think about what class he had for second period. It was one of those science classes, not Biology but the other one. Oh yeah, Chemistry. He was pulling out his Chemistry textbook when his locker slammed shut.

'Sup, Finnessa,' Puck greeted, with Mike Chang in tow behind.

'Dammit, dude,' Finn groused, 'you nearly got my fingers.'

'Yeah, whatever,' Puck shrugged. 'So you gonna tell me what's got you PMSing? 'Cos you've been acting like a real chick who hasn't had her pussy eaten out by the Puckmeister in a few days. That's not an offer, by the way.'

'Crude much?' Finn asked, rolling his eyes.

'No, seriously, dude,' Puck insisted. 'First you're going all ape-shit over that wheelchair kid and just now you were talking to that goth chick. And this morning, I totally saw you acting all chummy with Rachel Berry. Like what the fuck was she doing in your car in the first place?'

Finn mixed a little bit of lies with a little bit of truth, just like how Puck had taught him, and said, 'It's no big deal. It was raining. She was running late. I offered her a ride.'

'Yeah, well, I'm not down with that and it has to stop,' Puck told him. 'Look, you're my boy and all so I'm gonna explain it to you in real simple terms 'cos we all know that you can be a bit slow on the uptake sometimes.'

'Screw you,' Finn retorted. 'Do you have to be such an asshole like all of the time, dude?'

Puck ignored him and continued his speech, 'Okay, remember when we were in pre-school and there was that toy, fuck knows what they were called, with all those colored shapes? And you had to fit the right colored shape into the right hole? You used to love that game, like we literally had to drag you kicking and screaming away from it.'

'Yeah, so what?'

'Well, life is kind of like that toy. You, me and Chang here, we're like those kickass red circles. The wheelchair kid, the goth chick and Berry, they're the green squares. And red circles and green squares don't fit together, kapeesh?'

'That makes like no sense,' Finn told Puck. 'And I don't see you riding Chang's ass about not showing up last night.'

'Yeah, but that's different,' Puck stated. 'Chang has that Asian mother of his that went all batshit crazy and cursed at us in like Asian during freshman year when we tried to get him to do stuff. Dude, it was scary.'

Chang was no help. He just stood behind Puck, lifting his hands up in a _'What can you do?_' kind of gesture.

'Look, Finn,' Puck said, 'I'm only saying this 'cos you're my bro and all. Just don't screw with the world order.'

Puck sauntered off and Finn was left staring at Mike Chang.

Chang held his hands up in front of him all defensive like and said, 'Don't look at me, dude. I think Tina's kind of cool.'

There was something familiar in Chang's eyes as he spoke so they left it at that and headed off to class.

When Quinn slid into her usual seat beside him in Chemistry, Finn knew he should be focusing on the world order. He spent his class staring at the clock on the wall instead, watching the big and little hands tick over and wishing it was 7pm already.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** Love Was Meant For Beauty Queens

**Pairings:** Finn/Rachel, Finn/Quinn

**Disclaimer:** Glee is the property of Twentieth Century Fox and affiliates and not mine.

**Spoilers:** Everything up until 2x03. Although only in the loosest of sense as the story doesn't really follow canonical history.

**Summary:** Finn and Rachel attempt a friendship. Sequel to _At Eighteen (Come Dance With Me)_. Alternate History.

* * *

**LOVE WAS MEANT FOR BEAUTY QUEENS**

**Chapter 4**

It was exactly 7pm on the dot when Finn picked Rachel up from the dance studio.

The weather had cleared out to blue skies and yellow sun during the day but by 6.30pm it was all dark heavy clouds and thunderstorm. The rain pelted down as Finn grabbed his jean jacket, holding it over his head as he ran to where Rachel was waiting undercover. She didn't have an umbrella so they had to race back to his car, huddled closely under his jacket.

It was raining so hard that Finn was getting drenched anyway, water splattering over his jeans and polo shirt. If it had just been Finn he would have discarded his jacket a long time ago, because it wasn't really working as an umbrella like at all. Rachel however was small enough that his jacket could cover like 80% of her body from the storm. He angled his overly large body, using it as a shield to stop the rest of the rain from hitting her.

Finn placed his left hand on the small of Rachel's back as he guided her to the passenger side of the car. Even with his jeans wet, thick and heavy against his skin, he could feel the heat of Rachel's body, the curve of her bottom, as he pressed against her as he fiddled with the lock. The fat drops of rain falling on the back of Finn's neck and sliding down his spine did nothing to cool him down. He used his left hand to prop his jacket up, conscious of trying to keep her as dry as possible. When she slid passed him to get into the car, he missed the friction of having Rachel so damn close.

By the time he got into his car, water was rolling off him. His trainers sloshed as he moved his feet, pressing down on the pedals, and his socks felt beyond gross. Finn's jeans stuck uncomfortably to his skin and his shirt wasn't in any better condition. He kinda just wanted to strip everything off and crank the heater on high. Only the air was still too warm from the afternoon sun and, besides, driving across Lima naked had never been on Finn's top ten lists of things to do.

(It was totally something that Puck would do though. And Finn didn't know why he was thinking of that douchebag right now. Maybe because he had been best bros with the dude since they were in diapers and somehow it was hard to do anything without thinking about what Puck would say or do.)

Rachel had thankfully been spared from most of the rain and Finn was proud of himself for that. Rachel was worried about how soaked his clothes were and she fussed over him, making this 'tch tch tching' sound that he had heard come out of his mom's and Mrs Puckerman's mouths before. He wondered if it was a female thing.

She took off the bright green cardigan she was wearing and bundled it up in her hands using it as a cloth to wipe the rain off him. She was dabbing at his hair and down the side of his neck and it wasn't meant to be a turn on (but it totally was).

'I'm okay, Rach,' he said. 'You're ruining your cardigan and it's a lot nicer than any of my clothes.'

'I'm not worried about your clothes,' she told him. 'I'm worried about you. You'll catch your death of cold and it will be all my fault. You were only out in the rain in the first place because you were picking me up from dance class. And don't think I didn't notice your act of gallantry before, which was highly unnecessary but also greatly appreciated.'

'I'm fine,' Finn insisted, gently pushing her hands away.

Rachel shot him a look like she didn't believe him.

'No, really, I'm fine. Or I will be fine as soon as we get back to your place and I can dry off.'

She frowned, like she wanted to continue her attentions, but backed away letting Finn start the car engine. (It was totally nice how Rachel was making a fuss but Finn didn't want to make a big deal out of it, even if it did kind of feel like a big deal.)

The car ride was quiet except for the blare of the radio. Finn mostly concentrated on the road because it was raining so hard that he could only really see the yellow headlights on the road. Rachel fiddled with the tuner trying to find something that she liked.

As the rain started to ease out, a familiar opening keyboard riff floated through the air.

'Wait,' Finn said, stopping Rachel from changing the channel. 'I know this song. Man, I haven't heard this in like forever. I used to sing this when I was a kid; in the summer out in our front yard with the hose as a microphone.'

'For a smile they can share the night. It goes on and on and on and on,' Rachel sang.

Her voice cut through the thunder, hanging in the air with a sound so clear that it made his chest throb and race.

He turned from the wheel and snuck a glance at her, surprise on his face, 'You know this song?'

'It's a great classic rock song, Finn,' Rachel said. 'I'm not just Broadway musicals and pop music. I think it is important in life to have a wide range of experiences so that we can broaden our tastes and develop a more fulsome perspective.'

'That's like a good view to have,' he complimented. 'You're always pretty smart like that, Rach.'

'All right, I confess,' Rachel blurted. 'I lied. My preparations for auditions and admission into Julliard and Tisch required me to extend my musical repertoire. So I undertook some research. But once I actually listened to Journey, I found their music to be surprisingly relatable.'

He grinned at her and said, 'It's okay. I just think it is pretty cool that we like the same music.'

They belted out the chorus together and stretched out the notes – _Hold on to the feelin'_ – and their voices mixed, blended, became one. Finn felt kind of heady after that one song, like he had drunk too much beer, and he had to grip onto the steering wheel real hard just to steady himself.

He thought about singing with Rachel and maybe introducing her to some Bruce Springsteen, Rick Springfield, Dashboard Confessional and Kings of Leon. The thought was still floating in Finn's head as he pulled the car up at Rachel's home and parked it in his regular spot. (He had only driven to her home twice but the space on the road along the curbside near the oak just felt like his.)

Finn made Rachel wait in the car because while the rain wasn't as bad as it had been when they were at the dance studio, it was still pouring. Once more he used his jacket to provide Rachel with coverage from the rain as they made a dash to her front door.

She shooed him inside and he was so freaking sopping wet that he was leaving puddles in her hallway. Thankfully her hallway was tiled.

'Um, maybe it is best if you wait here,' Rachel said. 'I'll go get some towels and you can dry off. I promise to be quick.'

Rachel kept her promise so that Finn was only standing in her front hallway staring at the cream painted walls for less than a minute.

She handed him a couple of towels and he tried to pat himself down and squeeze as much of the excess water into the towels. It helped a bit but when Finn took a couple of steps a trail of water followed him, seeping from the ends of his jeans and shirt.

'This isn't working,' Finn growled in frustration. 'I'm gonna turn your carpet into a lake.'

Rachel eyed him thoughtfully, biting her lower lip as she instructed, 'Well, you're just going to have to strip down to your underwear.'

'What?' he wheezed, the incredibleness of the entire situation taking his breath away.

(Or maybe it was the fact that his clothes were wet and Finn was starting to shiver despite the afternoon heat still lingering.)

'Look, we shouldn't make an issue out of this. It's the only logical and sensible solution,' Rachel said even though she was totally blushing. 'And…and it's not like I haven't seen you in less.'

She did have a point and the idea was making Finn extra warm – a mix of embarrassment and being really, really turned on.

Oh, what the hell. He was gonna do it.

Finn took his shirt off first and it dropped to the floor with a splat. His eyes locked with Rachel's as his thumb and index finger found their way over the metal of his jeans button. He slowly undid the button – and okay, maybe his fingers weren't quite working properly anymore, especially not after he heard that hiss escape from Rachel's lips.

When he pulled down his zipper the sound it made was loud, so loud that Finn almost flinched. Rachel's eyes grew really wide and extra dark and hazy. A thrill ran down Finn's spine igniting something deep inside. He hooked his fingers around the top of his jeans and deliberately edged them down his legs, relishing in the hitches in Rachel's breath and the rosy tinge on her cheeks.

When Finn finally kicked his jeans off, Rachel let out a little 'oh' and his mouth broadened into a grin. He felt like a total stud.

He didn't even really feel awkward despite the fact that he was standing in the middle of her front hallway in only his blue boxers. His blue boxers that were clinging to his skin and outlining everything, like seriously everything, because Finn was hard and that was totally obvious.

'We should take a shower,' Rachel advised him, flustering when she realized exactly what she had said. 'Uh, I mean _you_ should take a shower.'

'We could totally take a shower if you want, Rach?' Finn told her, his voice low and husky and he cocked his head like the way Puck always did when he propositioned a female. He made sure to throw Rachel a lopsided grin because Santana had once mentioned he actually looked hot when he smiled like that.

'Okay,' Rachel squeaked.

And see, Finn was a total sex god. Puck would be totally proud, except maybe about the whole red circle and green square thing. Also, it was kind of weird to be thinking about Puck when he was about to have a shower.

Naked.

With Rachel Berry.

In the shower.

The spray from Rachel's showerhead was strong and hot. (The Berrys had the best shower pressure, like ever.) The glass was all fogged up except for the smudged areas where he had pushed Rachel against the glass. She was moving – kept on moving, writhing, shifting, shifting, shifting like she couldn't keep still. Her back was drawing patterns against the glass as he slammed into her and then he pulled out and then he was back in again.

Her nails were digging into the skin on his back and it should have hurt but Finn was too intent on watching the soapsuds sliding down Rachel's body. There were a couple of bubbles that trailed her collarbone, glided over the valley between her breasts, down the flat of her stomach, narrowly missing her bellybutton. The bubbles finally popped just below her hips when Finn pressed into Rachel again.

Finn liked how one of Rachel's legs was curled behind him and how her long dark hair was slick across her face. The steam and the hot water were creating red patches across Rachel's skin so he soothed the areas with his mouth and tongue.

When he shattered into her – and she had already fallen apart so Finn made sure he had a good hold on Rachel, using the glass to balance their bodies – the water from the showerhead was strong but cold. He remembered to turn the taps off (they had used up all the hot water) as their bodies collapsed on the floor of the shower.

Shower sex.

Like wow.

Finn's life was totally awesome.

-o-

Finn's life sucked.

'I can't believe you're refusing to accompany me to Santana's party tonight,' Quinn bitched at him, reaming him in like the first place trophy for cheerleading nationals depended on it.

(Maybe it did.

It would explain a lot.

Over the years Finn had started to notice that the Cheerios weren't really that cheery. They were kind of bitchy in fact. Finn had seen really nice girls he had known like his entire life put on that red and white uniform and suddenly they were not so nice.

Sometimes though when the Cheerios closed in on some girl who wasn't the perfect size zero – Quinn was always saying stuff about the importance of size zero whatever that meant – Finn thought that maybe the uniform was evil or something. Only not the skirt. The skirt was awesome.

Or maybe it was the whole not eating thing that Coach Sylvester made them do. Finn would be totally pissy all the time too if Coach Beiste made him not eat.

The Cheerios were always nice to him though. Finn was the most popular guy in school.

Or at least Finn had been the most popular guy in school before today.)

Finn shook his head because Quinn was still talking and he needed to tune her in. The last thing he needed was to give Quinn one more thing to bitch at him about.

'Santana's party is not a multiple choice question,' she admonished. 'There aren't any 'yes' or 'no' boxes for you to tick. The only acceptable answer is 'yes'. Yes, you are coming. Yes, you will be escorting me. Y.E.S. Yes.'

Finn rubbed his temples because he didn't really want to get into all of this with Quinn right now. It had been a long day and he just wanted to leave and head home now that school was finally over (although Finn kind of had detention so he had to stick around for like an hour longer, which totally sucked balls).

The day had started off well enough. He had woken up at 6am, which was actually kind of wrong. But he had managed to convince Rachel to try out that excellent morning sex idea that he had had the other day, which was actually all kinds of right. Finn thought the Health Department should totally endorse morning sex as the required form of daily exercise. People would be healthy like all the time.

After their morning exercise, Finn had eaten this awesome banana bread that Rachel had baked (and she had totally promised to bake a loaf just for him) for breakfast, which was way better than the cereal from the box that Finn normally ate. He had also arrived to school on time and had actually completed his homework for first period. His second period teacher had called in sick and instead of calling in for a substitute they were given a free. So Finn had actually been in a good mood at the beginning of the day.

However, during third period, as everyone was taking their seats and waiting for Spanish to start, Puck had dumped that freaking toy on Finn's desk. Every time Mr Reynolds' back had been turned, which was like often because Puck must have fucking bribed all the jocks and Cheerios to ask for Mr Reynolds for help as if they actually cared about Spanish, Puck had leant over and clanked the colored shapes in Finn's face.

'See, dude,' Puck had said, 'the kickass red circle don't fit into the hole for the fucking green square.'

After the twelfth time, Finn had been grinding his teeth, clenching his fists and trying to remind himself that Puck was his best friend (and why was that again?) so he shouldn't throw the blue triangle at Puck's head or smash his face into the desk.

By lunch time, Puck had started in with the singing:

'_One of these things is not like the others, _

_One of these things just doesn't belong, _

_Can you tell which thing is not like the others_

_By the time I finish my song?'_

When the hockey team joined in on it (which was so not cool), Finn had had enough.

Finn had smashed Dave Karofsky's face to the wall and thrown punches. A few of them were wide but one punch landed across Karofsky's face and then the dude was screaming like a girl, clutching his nose as blood gushed everywhere. Finn wasn't gonna lie. It was awfully satisfying. Besides he had never liked Karofsky in the first place.

After that though, Finn's day had pretty much gone down the toilet. He had received detention from Principal Figgins and had to see Miss Pillsbury, the guidance counselor, during one of his frees. Ms Pillsbury spent twenty minutes wiping stuff down (something about blood being unhygienic) and another ten minutes pumping the gel from the bottle of hand sanitizer on her desk. By the time that she had gotten round to handing Finn all these pamphlets that were of like no help at all, his free period was over and he had a double period of Calculus to sit through.

So he wasn't really happy about staying back for detention for something that was really not his fault while everyone else was done for the day. Teachers shouldn't be that sick and evil to give after school detention on a Friday. Finn was pretty sure there had to be a law against it, like in the Constitution or something.

And Quinn kept on nagging about this party at Santana's like it was some huge deal. Finn knew it was going to be the same old party with the same old crowd and everyone would be doing the same old thing. After all, he had been going to these parties since freshman year.

'I'm just so not in the mood,' Finn told his girlfriend as he grabbed his bag from his locker. (He didn't want to have to come back to his locker once he had completed detention.)

'You need to get with the program,' Quinn said, chewing him out. 'People are starting to talk. They're saying that you're like regressing or whatever. Some people are even saying that you've gone all gay now and that you're in love with that wheelchair kid. I am not going to leave this school with the reputation that I've been your big gay beard for the last three years.'

'So let them talk,' Finn retorted. 'What the team tried to do was serious, Quinn. Artie could have been really hurt.'

Quinn sighed, 'I know you're just trying to be the good guy, Finn. I understand that. I really do. But can't you think about me for once? I cannot show up at Santana's by myself.'

'I'm really not in the mood,' Finn said. 'Look, just because I don't want to go to Santana's party shouldn't stop you from going. You should go. You should totally go and have some fun.'

Quinn's eyes narrowed before suddenly softening. Her fingers lightly trailed up his arm as she whispered, 'We could have fun at Santana's party. Fun together. I'll let you touch my breasts. No bra.'

There was a vague stirring of interest at Quinn's offer but it felt more like that second glance Finn would take when a hot girl walked by. So maybe Finn was like all sexed out from his time with Rachel.

Huh, he didn't know that could even happen.

Puck had never mentioned it.

And Finn knew that it wasn't a question of his own studliness.

Because last night? Had been EPIC.

If sex with Rachel was like playing a video game then Finn knew he had made the records for top scorer.

A yawn escaped Finn's mouth and Quinn was playing with his sleeve still waiting for his answer. He was probably tired, that was it. He had had hardly any sleep last night. (It wasn't Finn's fault that Rachel's body was so smokin' that he couldn't stop touching her.)

Finn gently withdrew Quinn's hand from his arm and said, 'I'm sorry. I'm just really worn out. All I want to do is go home and crash.'

Her chin slightly tremored and Finn was reminded of the five year old with the broken doll. There were moments when Finn remembered he could actually hurt Quinn, even now when she was dressed in the red and white Cheerio uniform with her blonde hair yanked back so tight it seemed to pull at her skin making her face seem narrower, tighter, harsher.

He placed a kiss on top of her head and offered, 'I'll make it up to you. I promise.'

'Fine,' she huffed. 'But I'm making you keep to your promise, Finn.'

He watched his girlfriend walk away before closing his locker door and resting his forehead against the cool metal for a couple of minutes, because it was such a relief not to have to go to Santana's party. When he got to detention he spent the hour with his eyes closed because he really was so, so tired.

By the time Finn opened his eyes again, the school had emptied out and he was probably the only one left in the building except for the janitor mopping up the dried blood on the linoleum. He was kind of glad that it was just him and the janitor because the last thing that Finn wanted to do was to talk to anyone. He just wanted to go home, maybe make a grilled cheese sandwich (his mom was out on a date with some dude called Burt, who had fixed their car two weeks ago 'cos their regular mechanic had gone on holidays), crawl into bed, and sleep the weekend away.

Finn slowly trudged to his car, his feet heavy so that he was kind of just dragging his body along. From the distance, he could see a figure by his car and he swallowed a groan. He really didn't want to deal with Puck or any of the other guys on the team.

'Look, dude, I'm so not in the mood right now,' he shouted across the parking lot. 'So you can all just shove off or whatever.'

The figure jumped and turned so that a flash of brown streaked through the air.

'Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you,' said Rachel in her distinctly familiar and very female voice. 'I'll just go.'

Finn bit back a smile. Maybe there was one person that he didn't mind talking to.

'Don't go,' he told her, leaping forward to catch her on the wrist before she left. 'I thought you were Puck or one of the others. I didn't know it was you.'

'I heard what happened today,' she said.

'I think everyone in the whole of fucking town of Lima heard,' Finn replied bitterly.

'I just wanted to see if you were okay,' she murmured, her fingers across his knuckles which were starting to purple from the impact on Karofsky's face. 'I was concerned.'

'Well, I'm still alive,' he joked. 'And I somehow managed to make it through detention. So it's good.'

'That's good,' she replied, withdrawing her hand and Finn missed the way Rachel's fingers had been caressing the back of his hand. 'I'll just go now. I know you must have other plans, what with Santana's party and all.'

'I'm not going to Santana's,' Finn blurted.

'You're not? But don't you always go? And isn't a party at Santana's a really huge deal? I've heard students at school talking about the things they were willing to do just to get an invited.'

'Nah,' Finn said, 'it's only really a thing because Santana's father is a doctor and they're like loaded. Otherwise it's just the same kids at school that you see like every day.'

'Oh,' Rachel said in a really quiet voice as she stared at her shoes. 'I didn't know that. I've never been invited.'

'Yeah, well, you're not missing out on much. And you've probably got tons of awesome stuff that you were planning to do tonight.'

'I was just going to go home,' Rachel pointed out, her eyes staring at a spot in the distance away from him.

Finn reached out to brush the strands of hair from Rachel's face. He ran his thumb lightly down the side until he reached her chin and then he tilted her head so he was looking at her face to face.

'Going home sounds perfect,' he told her.

Rachel's face broke into a smile and her mouth was stretched to edges and Finn couldn't help but lean forward to drop a small kiss on the side of her mouth.

All thoughts about Santana's party, Puck, Quinn, sleep and being sexed out had totally flown out of his head.

Finn followed Rachel home, his car tracing the familiar road and he didn't need a map to know where he was going.

* * *

**Music:**

_Don't Stop Believin'_, Journey

_One of These Things_, Joe Raposo, Jon Stone and Bruce Hart


End file.
